


Fluffy Spidey Moments

by Angeltigerdragon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:56:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9456098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angeltigerdragon/pseuds/Angeltigerdragon
Summary: A series of short one shots in the "Meeting Spider" universe that are mostly just happy moments of Peter and the gang.





	1. Chapter 1

Clint had Peter with him in the vents. He made sure to instill the sacredness of the pinky-swear before bringing his nephew along. Currently, said nephew was crawling above him like a pro. Clint grinned.

_Yeah, this kid’s gonna be a hero_ , he thought.

Steve was away in D.C., which meant Tony spent some time in the lab in the afternoon while Peter sat with Barton in the lab.

Clint may have or may not have caused an explosion to keep Barton busy. It was a small one too.

Peter turned a corner and Clint sped up. He had to keep his little spider in sight.

They reached an opening to the lower vents.

                “Okay, kid,” said Clint. “Grab on to me and count to two.”

Peter did as told, silent as always, and held tightly.

Clint took out his magnetic grips and began the descent in the vents. Peter whimpered as the luminescence of the main vent faded.

                “Shh,” Clint said, patting Peter’s head. “It’s gonna be peachy. Old Uncle Clint has been in much tighter places. Figurative and literally.”

Peter nodded. Clint could feel him signing against his chest and hummed.

They kept to their descent until the wafting of food came up. Clint smirked, “Bingo.”

He embraced Peter and turned off the grips. For thirty-seven seconds they were weightless until he caught himself before they landed.

A light shone through the vent below them and Clint carefully landed. Sounds emitted from outside of pans clanging. Chopping boards and ovens dings came to the two hidden figures ears.

                “The Starkateria is world famous for making the best lunches and deserts in any company on the East,” said Clint. “We’re going to make a little distraction, then Peter, listen.”

Peter looked up at him, intense gaze.

Clint grinned. “When I sound the alarm and they file out, you use your spidey powers and gather those cookies at the baking station off to the left.”

As Clint said this, he set his arrow, and pointed to the stations were Peter would pick up “brunch.”

Clint shot and the arrow made a piercing alarm noise. From there, the staff evacuated the scene. Clint opened the vent and Peter crawled out. He grabbed an empty sack from the table top. Swiftly, the little boy grabbed all the cookies, bags of chips, pre-packaged sandwiches, and two bottles of root beer.

He crawled back just in time before security entered.

 

Back in Clint’s room, he and Peter ate their spoils and watched daytime court television. Clint was smiling to himself. Stark would arrive soon demanding explanations and saying “What in sweet rosy heights?!” because he stopped cursing in front of Peter. Clint look to his nephew.

The boy chewed slowly on the macadamia nut chocolate chip.

                “What’s wrong, kid?” asked Clint.

Peter turned and made signs. B-A-D. He pointed to himself, and then the food.

Clint understood. “No, you’re not bad.”

He pointed to Clint.

                “I used to be and sometimes I go too far,” he said. Clint grabbed Peter. “I know my limits and your daddy’s. He won’t think we’re bad for doing this. He’ll be a little sore, but not angry. Peter,” Clint said while lifting the boy’s chin up. “I did a few bad things before, but not anymore. Doesn’t matter what happens next, just remember you are not bad.”

Peter smiled small and snuggled into the plush sofa. Clint joined him and awaited the arrival of a sour-face Tony.


	2. Baking tips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor's first time babysitting Peter.

Thor had the bowl of mixes on the counter. Peter was covered in the powdered flour. They were making pie crust.

Darcy had said Thor’s baking “skills” with cakes, cookies, and other soft pastries was subpar at best. And he burned half a dozen cupcakes twice in a row.

So, pie crust and apple slices were safer.

Peter shook the flour off himself and climbed on the high stool.

Thor read the instructions.

                “Place apple slices in circular patterns.”

Thor hummed. He shrugged and followed the instructions. He started to place the apple slices in the tin, but young Peter placed his hand on Thor’s big one.

                “Yes, young master,” said Thor.

Peter pointed to the gooey substance which made the crust dough. He then pointed to the paper with the instructions. It read “spread dough evenly in pan with oil…”

                “Aw, I see. Thank you, dear one,” he said.

Thor removed the apple slices. He let Peter arrange the dough in the pan. Thor placed the apples again. He found the cinnamon and dumped the amount directed in the pan. The oven _beep!_

                “Aha!” Thor clapped. “The oven is ready. Let us cover the apples with the top dough.”

Thor gathered the remaining dough and poured it over the apples. He placed it in the oven and set the timer as taught by Jane.

                “Now, dear one, we wait with bated breath for our creation,” he told Peter.

The boy clapped and got off the seat.

The two sat in the kitchen checking the progress of the pie every so often. Thor kept Peter entertained with stories of his past battles.

After the allotted time was over, Thor leapt into action. He grabbed a mitten placed the pie on the windowsill.

                “There,” he said. “Now, once your fathers they will have the privilege of eating homemade pie as Darcy says is the best. And Lady Jane will not doubt my fervor in sitting of babes.”

Peter nodded vigorously.

After eight, the young boy started to grow droopy. Thor sighed and wrapped the small child in his cap.

                “Hey,” whispered Jane, as she entered the living room. The couch had three empty pizza boxes plus a box of PopTarts. “I see you two had fun.”

                “Indeed, my lady. You will be please to discover I am quite the caretaker with young Peter.”

Jane blushed embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

                “All is forgiven as there was nothing to apologize. I understand I…come off as brutish. However, it would calm you to know I took care of my younger brother,” Thor said. A dark sadness passed over his brow, but he smiled. “Also, we were quite the busy ones.”

Jane found the pie. It was burnt at the sides and the center dough was uncooked. It was the best pie ever.

                “When do the fathers arrive?” asked Thor.

                “I offered them a night off and after some coaxing from Darcy, they took it. But they’ll probably be here bright and early tomorrow, so we better get some sleep,” she said.

Thor nodded. Carefully, the two placed Peter in the guestroom, his Iron Mouse and Captain Americat next to his head.

They sihged and went off to bed. It was a peaceful night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to make pie so everything could be wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's first time with Peter.

Bruce trembled in the corner. It was ridiculous. Peter looked up from his drawings and smiled. Bruce chuckled like a madman. He swallowed hard in his stance at the corner. Peter returned to his drawings. He seemed to be okay with the doctor now. Peter avoided him after Bruce took his blood, but he seemed to be over it.

Bruce on the other hand clenched and unclenched his fists.

                “How could they leave me with you?” he whispered.

Until today, it was Barton or Nat who watched over Peter. Yeah, he offered, but Barton showed up and let Bruce go. It is not that he does not like Peter. He does and the kid has grown on him more than he likes to admit.

He knew, statistically, he would end up alone with Peter. And that Barton was in the hospital for his ears, meaning that for the first time in the year Peter has been here, Bruce was truly alone.

                “Why would anyone leave something so fragile with me?” he whispered.

He takes out the vitamins he keeps in his pocket and takes them dry. Peter looks up from his place on the floor. He holds up the large paper. Bruce squints his eyes and sees that the drawing has him. He knows by the curly swirls for his dark hair, the glasses, and a purple shirt and lab coat. Next to the picture is a small boy in blue, black, and red with four arms sticking out and a web pattern on his shirt.

                “That’s you,” Bruce said above a whisper.

Peter nods enthusiastically. He holds out the paper for Bruce.

Bruce swallows and walks forward. He stands a hare’s breath from Peter. Bruce squats down and notices something on the eight limbed Peter. A small tail poked out that Bruce mistook for an aesthetic choice. It is furry and has a little stump at the end.

                “What are you supposed to be?” he asked.

                “Spider monkey.”

Bruce halts his heart speeding. He breathes in; the Big Guy does not need to come out. Tony and Steve have been the few who hear Peter talk. It is something beautiful and precious. Bruce holds back tears.

                “I see,” he says.

He helps Peter draw until Steve returns from his VA duties.

                “Thanks again, Bruce,” he says.

He and Peter wave bye-bye as Bruce gets in the elevator.

                “Yeah, anytime.”


	4. Russian Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Romanov takes Peter to the skate park.

“Follow my lead,” Natasha instructs. She balances on the board, bends her knees, and begins to glide forward.

Peter watches. He follows her lead and they glide on the hard concrete together.

                “Good, good,” says Natasha. “Now for a pump and drop-in as we practiced.”

The boy nods and goes to the small ramp. He goes down, centering himself. Natasha hums as Peter begins to pick up speed. He is keeping his shoulders centered with his knees and continuing to bend his knees.

                “Don’t bend your knees too early,” Natasha states.

Peter nods again. His face from what Natasha sees is concentrated on his current positions.

Natasha says, “Start your transition. Front knee forward!”

Peter starts again. He extends his knees wider for the upcoming kick-turn. He waits for Natasha’s signal.

                “Go,”she says.

Peter turns. He giggles as he repeats the acts several times on the small ramp.

Natasha claps. “Wonderful, moy melan’kiy pauk.”

Peter looks at her from below the ramp. He cocks his head, a quizzical gesture.

                “My little spider,” Natasha translates. “That’s who you are to me, Peter.”

He giggles again. It is such a soft sound. Natasha drops in on her board. She picks up Peter. He is still so small, she thinks, but he is growing.

                “Now, moy melan’kiy pauk, what do we do until your fathers realize you are missing?”

Peter points to an ad for chicken nuggets.

Two hours later, Captain America and Iron Man are seen hovering over a mom’n’pop chicken stand on camera. Nothing happens, but to anyone who sees it, believes the two super heroes are flustered at a young lady sitting with her son.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about skateboards. Everything is from Wikipedia.

**Author's Note:**

> This is because my current story is taking some sad turns and heavy ones too, so I just need to write some happy stuff.


End file.
